Demon Hunting In Dixie by George Lexi

Author:George, Lexi [George, Lexi]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2011-05-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-two

The chief stomped out to his patrol car. Addy followed him outside, her ever-constant Dalvahni shadow at her heels.

“I gotta call this in. The mayor needs to be notified. And the town council,” he said.

The chief’s face was bright red. Addy had looked like that once after a day at the beach. But, the chief wasn’t sunburned. Nope, the chief was about to blow a gasket.

“How the hell did somebody move this thing all the way from downtown?” he fumed. “It ’ud take a forklift to move the son-of-a-bitch. Don’t matter. If I find out who did this, I’m gonna bury ’em under the jail. Stealing a corpse is one thing, but this here is desecration of a war hero. It’s like shooting the pope a bird. These suckers have crossed the line.”

“Who shot the pope a bird?” Muddy stepped out onto the porch. She gave a startled yelp when she saw Old Jeb. “Why is there a decapitated Civil War hero sitting in my yard?”

“Spanish-American war hero, Muddy,” Addy said. “Jeb was a Rough Rider, remember? Saved Behr County from the pernicious boll weevil by convincing local farmers to stop planting cotton and go nuts. That’s why he has the big peanut in his hands.”

“Is that a peanut? I always thought it was a pickle.”

“What in the world gave you that idea?”

“Lots of folks around here grow cucumbers, Addy. Pickles are big in the food industry. Think about it. There are bread-and-butter pickles and sweet pickles, and kosher dills and hamburger chips, not to mention gherkins and pickle relish.” She peered at the statue. “It’s not a very good peanut, if you ask me. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have thought it was a pickle.”

“Don’t look so much like a pickle to me as a cat turd,” Mr. Collier said, eyeing the statue. “I had this cat once that made the oddest-shaped poop. Kinda like that pickle there.”

“I remember that cat.” Muddy cocked her head. “ ’Course, looking at it from this angle, it could be a dildo.”

Oh, good Lord. Like the City Fathers would commission a statue of Hannah’s favorite son holding up a two-foot dildo.

“Got me a notion about that statue.” Mr. Collier lowered his voice. “But I’d better wait until the chief leaves. Wouldn’t want him to think I’m crazy.”

Addy rolled her eyes. Everybody in Hannah thought Amasa Collier was crazier than a sack of weasels.

As it turned out, the chief didn’t leave until after noon. Not until the mayor, the town council, the whole police department, the fire and sheriff departments, and half the town had traipsed through Muddy’s yard gawking at Headless Jeb and scratching their collective heads over such a peculiar thing as a migrating statue. Robyn James showed up from the Hannah Herald to take pictures and interview the rubberneckers, since the chief would say no more than, “The matter is under investigation.” To be exact, what the chief said was, “You bet your beeping ass the beeping matter is under investigation,” and then he stomped off.

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